Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Greece and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
OOIOO,
Inner City,
Urselle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Pharoah Sanders,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
Youth Brigade,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
KRS-One,
Gong,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Harry Pussy,
Arcadia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mo-Dettes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fugazi,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Hot Snakes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Faraquet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Thompson Twins,
Sparks,
Funky Four + One,
Dead Boys,
Sonic Youth,
EPMD,
Quadrant,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
Blancmange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Brick,
Scan 7,
The Moleskins,
John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.